I Married a Werewolf: Solidarity
by Kailin
Summary: I Married a Werewolf series. This vignette features Remus' POV as he reflects on the 12 months since he and Kailin met.


This vignette, the result of hearing some fans complain that the PoA movie werewolf didn't even look like a wolf, takes place a year after Remus and Kailin met. Hopefully, it's the segue into their next story, which still suffers from a deplorable lack of coherent plot.

I Married a Werewolf: Solidarity

The early summer sun crept into the bedroom, slanting rays across the sheets and blankets and my sleeping wife. I got up, padded to the window, and pulled the curtains closed a bit tighter. There. I was probably awake for good, but there was no reason for Kailin to be disturbed yet. I crawled back into bed and settled in, watching her, enjoying the peaceful expression on her face and the soft rise and fall of her chest.

A year.

An entire year since I met her. A year since I went with Mad-Eye and Tonks to meet Harry at King's Cross. I needed to be there for Harry, even though my own grief at Sirius' death was still so fresh. After all, I've had a lifetime of losses and disappointments: it's no less painful for me, but it's hardly a new experience. For a fifteen-year-old, however, it's devastating.

I think---no, I know---that Harry was surprised and pleased to see us. He's not accustomed to being met at the station by anyone other than his vile relatives. How sweet Lily Potter could be related to those people is truly a mystery of genetics. Still, Tonks and Mad-Eye and I---along with Molly and Arthur---managed to make our point rather efficiently. It was quite simple, really: mistreat the boy over the summer, and the Dursleys would be dealing with an awfully grouchy group of wizards. I'm sure Harry had to be relieved somewhat. Bad enough to lose his godfather one week and be banished to Privet Drive the next.

I suppose it was the barely civil reception given us by the Dursleys that had me in a rather dark frame of mind regarding certain Muggles. As we walked away from the platform barrier and toward the station proper, my attention was immediately caught by the sight of a woman, just off the train on platform 10 from the look of it, stooping down and trying to pick up some items she'd dropped. Several men, looking to be in a rather loud, inebriated state, were right behind her. Two swerved to avoid the woman, but the third actually crashed into her, knocking her flat.

I suppose a polite werewolf is not much better than a rude one, but I'd like to think I'm a better person because my mother pounded good manners into my head from early on. I assumed, naturally, that the men would immediately stop to apologize to the woman and help her to her feet. Not so. The two men helped the third upright then proceeded to give the poor lady a salty discourse on the nature of women before staggering away. I was hardly surprised when she burst into tears. What _did _surprise me was that absolutely no one else stopped to help her. I headed toward her at once.

She'd already retrieved a few things, but judging by the volume of stuff on the ground, an entire section of her knapsack must have ripped open. I knelt down and began to grab her belongings, calling over my shoulder to tell Mad-Eye and Tonks to go on without me.

And then the woman looked up at me, and I felt my bones dissolve.

She had the loveliest eyes, which even the film of tears couldn't hide. They were a clear, light blue, not the murky, nondescript shade of my own. And then, when she was finally able to smile, _dimples_! Any man, save the boors who bothered her in the first place, would trip over his own feet to be with her. I had to force my attention back toward picking up her scattered articles. To consider anything else was ludicrous: she was a Muggle, and I was a wizard. And a werewolf.

We finally managed to collect her belongings and determine the reason her knapsack had split. And then it was time for the woman to offer her thanks and for me to leave, but a funny thing happened: neither of us seemed to want our brief conversation to end. Amazingly enough, she offered to buy me a cup of tea. I didn't hesitate to accept.

And so my relationship with Kailin began. At first, I thought I was safe from getting involved. She was, after all, an American Muggle. Some day she would be going back to the States to continue her life, so anything other than a brief friendship was out of the question.

Plus, there was the question of expense. I couldn't possibly afford to shower Kailin with gifts, or take her to fancy restaurants or the theater. I had to be terribly creative with our dates: bookstores, museums, art galleries, antiques stores, anything free or low cost. I'm sure she thought I was the cheapest man in London, but she never asked about it or complained.

Of course, all my best intentions went awry when I fell head over heels in love with her. I had decided to tell her everything in bits and pieces: first had to come the fact that I was a wizard; then, after that sank in for a few days, I would bring up the war with Voldemort. The latter would probably scare her so badly that she need never learn about my affliction.

Amazingly, she accepted the revelations with wide-eyed equanimity. She found Diagon Alley enchanting, and even the news that there was an evil wizard on the loose failed to disturb her much. I took her to Grimmauld Place, introduced her to everyone in the Order, and steeled myself to reveal the darkest part of myself.

And then Hermione Granger beat me to it. Unaware that Kailin didn't know my secret, she let the news slip. The evening ended with Kailin falling down the staircase of Twelve, Grimmauld Place in a blind panic and knocking herself out cold under the screaming portrait of Sirius' mum. I've had people sneer at me or recoil in horror; this was by far the most spectacular reaction to the news of my lycanthropy.

It goes without saying that Kailin was upset and bewildered. She had no idea what to make of the news, yet to her credit---and to the shame of the wizarding world, which chooses to view werewolves as barely human---she didn't close the door on our relationship completely. She said she wanted time to think everything over, and I could hardly blame her.

That was the longest week of my life. I didn't dare hope for a future with her, since the clear choice, the best choice, would be for her to return to the States and forget this odd little interlude. When I received Arthur Weasley's invitation to dinner at the Burrow, along with the information that Kailin was there and wanted to talk to me, it appeared the worst was about to happen. This was the end then, the dreaded "talk". I had no idea why Kailin was with the Weasleys, but she could only have summoned me for one thing: to tell me how very sorry she was, how she wished things could have ended differently, but it just wouldn't do to love a werewolf.

I was angry. Not at Kailin, because her decision was the only one possible under the circumstances. No, what made me furious was that once more, I'd been tempted with something akin to a normal life, only to be reminded how I could never have it. I was a fool to have let myself entertain even a shred of hope. By the time I arrived at the Burrow that evening, I was in a reasonably foul mood.

For some reason, Kailin kept smiling at me all throughout dinner. Trying to soften the blow, no doubt. The news that she'd discovered her supposedly Muggle grandmother to be a Hogwarts graduate was surprising, but it didn't detract from the main purpose of my visit. By the time Molly Weasley sent us on a walk after dinner, I was short-tempered and anxious to leave.

Kailin was obviously puzzled by my attitude and tried hard to remain pleasant despite my ill humor. I know that when she finally told me that she loved me despite my affliction, I couldn't---or wouldn't---believe it. When the words finally soaked through my thick skull, I wanted to crawl away in embarrassment: here I was, supposedly adjusted to the existence I lead, sulking like a child. That I went home with her that night, that we made love without the dread of unspoken revelations hanging over my head, was akin to stepping off a cliff. Just at the time I was the most vulnerable, I was exhilarated and felt---dare I say it---the most normal.

It was while on this euphoric high that I proposed marriage and Kailin accepted. We were married three weeks later at a Wizarding Registry office, with the Gathering held in the Weasleys' apple orchard. I had virtually the entire Order of the Phoenix there to support me, while poor Kailin had no one. The Weasleys---Molly, in particular---had more or less adopted her into their extended family by then, so I know Kailin felt less alone in this strange new world of hers. Still, she had much to learn.

We'd only been married for a month when she began wearing a tee-shirt decorated with a pair of handsome timber wolves. When I asked her about it, she blushed and said that she thought it was rather appropriate, given my monthly transformation. My heart sank immediately.

"Kailin, it's not like that," I said quietly.

"Like what?" She seemed truly puzzled.

"You said that when you were at the Weasleys', you looked through some of the books and textbooks."

"Yes."

"Then you saw pictures of werewolves. They don't look like that. They're not fluffy and cute and pleasant," I said, gesturing toward the wolves on her shirt.

Kailin stared at me. "Uhm… Well, there was an illustration, not a photograph. But I just assumed that maybe the artist had---uhm---"

"---taken some liberties with the drawing?" I finished for her. She nodded.

Damn. Kailin had never asked to see me when I was transformed into the wolf (not that I would ever allow it), but there had only been two full moons since she'd learned my secret. Dreading what her reaction would be now, I found my old Defense teacher's book and turned to the chapter regarding werewolves. The illustration---nobody wanted to risk their neck taking an actual photograph of a werewolf, of course---showed what my alternate self looked like in all its ugly glory. I waited for the expressions of revulsion that always came on the heels of this sort of thing.

"So that's really what you look like?" Kailin's voice was surprisingly steady.

I nodded.

"Well," she said, forcing a bright smile, "I guess this shirt's none too accurate, is it?"

"No," I said simply.

I found the shirt in a pile of clothes for charity the next day.

A week later, Kailin returned from a shopping expedition and announced that she had a new shirt. Without further ado, she opened her jacket to reveal a white tee shirt sporting the revolting illustration from the werewolf chapter. The only change was that a red heart adorned the chest of the beast, and large blue letters above the animal declared 'I Married a Werewolf'.

"What do you think?" Kailin demanded, a sly grin on her face. "More appropriate?"

I could only nod. "Where---? How---?" I stammered. No one in his or her right mind would advertise a relationship with a werewolf. Besides, the wizarding populace has never taken to displaying slogans, products, or personal philosophies on their clothing: it's strictly a Muggle phenomenon.

"Well, it was a little tricky," Kailin said, dropping onto the living room sofa. "You wizards are quite sneaky, you know. I took that book to work and tried to make a Xerox copy of the picture, but each time the paper came out blank."

"Guess we don't like that information floating around," I managed to say.

"Guess not. Anyway, I ended up making a freehand drawing myself, and added the heart. There's a specialty shop over on Clarke where you can get custom-made shirts with your own designs, so I gave them the drawing and told them what I wanted the shirt to say, and---voila!"

I truly didn't know what to think. Kailin was clearly not doing this to tease or embarrass me. In fact, she seemed quite proud of herself.

"Is it not okay?" she asked in uncertainty.

"I don't understand," I said flatly. "I turn into a monster every month. Why would you possibly want to celebrate that?"

Kailin's smile vanished. She rose to her feet, clearly upset now. "Because I love you _all _month, not just _most _of the month, that's why!" she snapped, and marched off to the bedroom.

I felt like a fool. I know that most in the Order of the Phoenix think I am blessed with an inordinate amount of common sense, but right now they'd be hard pressed to prove it. I wondered which was best: to give my wife a few minutes to cool off, or try to remedy things immediately? I had a hunch that sooner was much better than later in this case, and I hurried after her.

The werewolf tee shirt lay in a wad on the floor as Kailin struggled into a different shirt. Any other time, the sight of my wife half-clothed would call for a very different response on my part. Right now, I had to eat a lot of crow, and fast.

"Kailin, I'm so sorry. That was horrible of me."

Her head poked through the collar of a plain green shirt, and she tugged the rest of the it down around her rather forcefully. "I love you, you know. I love who you are, and I'm not ashamed of you."

"I know that. I---"

"Besides, I was just trying to connect."

"Connect?" I asked.

"Yes, connect. I wanted to feel---I don't know---closer to you."

"Closer? We're married, Kailin. How much closer can we get?"

The use of humor was another bad mistake, judging by the look on her face.

"See? You don't understand!" She tried to push past me. I caught her by the arm and stopped her.

"No," I said, "I don't understand. Tell me."

"I'm an outsider, Remus. A Muggle."

"Yes?"

Kailin glared at me as if I were incredibly thick. "You're an outsider, too. You're a werewolf. We'll always be looked down on with suspicion or amusement or mistrust, just because of who we are. We're both in the same boat. I was just trying to promote a bit of solidarity, that's all!"

I was quite speechless. Dear God, she was right. We were both disregarded by the magical world, although for completely different reasons.

We made up almost at once, and in a rather dramatic style which involved shedding the green shirt along with the rest of our clothes. But beyond the immediate rewards, it was a defining moment for each of us. We were straddling separate realities, and with that realization came a feeling of incredible intimacy. We _were_ in this together.

Laying next to me in bed now, my wife rolled onto her back and began to show signs that alertness was imminent. I had come so close to losing her in March, when Lucius Malfoy had set fire to the cottage where Kailin was staying, merely for the pleasure of ridding the world of one more Muggle. It is still hard for me to believe that we won that battle, and by 'won' I mean that she is alive and well and at my side in bed.

In every other sense, the battle still rages. Malfoy believes her to be dead, which means that Kailin cannot accompany me to King's Cross today when I go to meet the Hogwarts Express. I don't know if Lucius Malfoy will be there to collect Draco, but we can't risk him spotting her. And, as much as I want him to pay for nearly taking Kailin from me, I've reluctantly accepted the fact that Malfoy's punishment must be deferred. Someday the man will pay for his crimes, whether in a burst of green light or rotting as a soulless shell in Azkaban.

And so, life goes on. Hermione Granger will be staying with us for a week, hence today's trip to King's Cross. It was Kailin's idea: she lost her own parents while in university, and knows the particular pain of coming home to find no one waiting for you. The Weasleys will take Hermione for the balance of the summer, but for right now, Kailin is taking a week off work so we can entertain our guest. And judging by what she has in mind, it should be a very interesting week.

My wife opens her eyes and stretches, blinking. The she turns her head and sees me watching her, and the smile that lights her eyes fills my heart with an indescribable joy.

Solidarity, indeed.


End file.
